Rainbow
by Readergirl24
Summary: Staring at the rainbow, Harry thought about it all. About Dougie. About his torn up heart, his messed up mind. Love wasn't easy, not at all. Pudd, rated T for mentions of kissing, drugs/alcohol and general love. Hope you like it xx


A rainbow. A rainbow, hanging in the sky, looming down on the earth below. Beautiful colours, shining bright. People stopped and stared, children giggled and pointed. But Harry...Harry just sat there. Thinking. Thinking about him.

Red. Blood. The one thing Dougie was scared of. He remembered when Dougie cut himself, almost crying out with the pain. Harry had been there, comforting him. Telling him it was okay, he was okay. Holding him in his arms, whispering comforting statements into his ear. Softly stroking his hair, kissing the short, blond strands. Dougie falling asleep as he lay there, assured that everything would be fine.

Orange. Sunrise. He would never forget the time when a lively, eager Dougie woke him up at five in the morning, whispering that he had to get up. Dougie pulling him down the stairs, into the misty back garden. The two of them sitting there, close, maybe too close, watching the streaks of orange wash over an indigo sky. He remembered looking over at the bassist, smiling at the look of pure wonder and contentment on his young face. Hoping that the moment would never end, that they could stay there forever, in their own world of happiness and peace.

Yellow. Like the colour of Dougie's girlfriend's hair. The one person that he was jealous of. But what could he do? Nothing. That was the answer. Sit there, pretend to be happy as they kissed in front of him. Pretend to enjoy a double date, fake a smile as Dougie chatted about his new found love. Ignore the breaking of his heart inside him, the huge wave of tears threatening to burst his bubble of false delight and enjoyment.

Green. The main colour of the jungle. He remembered taking a glance at the TV, feeling envy erupt in his twisted mind at the sight of Dougie cheerfully finding pleasure in another man's company. Knowing he shouldn't, knowing that the blond would only ever be his friend. Only his friend, nothing more. But unable to hold back his emotions as he watched his best mate, his secret crush, kiss another man, almost screaming out at the sight, even though he'd seen it happen many times before. Angry that Dougie would never be aware of the pain he was causing, the tears he was provoking. Unaware that he meant anything to Harry, anything more than a friend. Just a friend.

Blue. The same colour of that denim jacket Dougie owned. The one he wore the day he told Harry everything. Everything he'd been going through for the past four years of his life. Pounds of drugs, huge amounts of alcohol. Meaningless sex, empty kisses. Tears, paranoia. Wanting to scream out for help, resisting the urge to confess to someone, anyone, his emotions. Harry listening, hugging Dougie as he dry heaved, breaking down in waterfalls of feelings. Telling him it would be okay, but knowing that wasn't anywhere near definite.

Indigo. One of Dougie's many basses was indigo. Harry could recall Dougie playing it, then coming up to him. Kissing him. On stage. In front of more than one thousand people. He remembered enjoying it- enjoying the sensation, the way his lips felt, the pure danger and daringness of it all. He remembered Dougie winking at him as he walked away, sparking a feeling in Harry that he'd never felt before. That he would then continue to feel for the rest of his life, every time he looked at Dougie, every moment they spent together. Every single day.

Violet. Dougie had dyed his hair bright violet, during the wonderland period. He'd been so energetic during those days, so bubbly and high-spirited. The days where the bassist wouldn't know what his future held for him, and all that mattered was having fun. He could recall spending hours on end just laughing with Dougie, giggling as the young man made immature jokes, did ridiculous things.

Looking back, he realised that that was the true Dougie. The crazy, loveable, weird boy that did whatever he wanted. The boy who was shockingly quiet in interviews, but larger than life backstage. The boy who everyone fell in love with the moment they saw him, love that stayed forever. The boy that captivated Harry's thoughts, chuckling that childish snigger of his in the drummer's dreams. The boy that Harry secretly fell in love with, never telling anyone, never acting on it.

He remembered meeting Izzy, and for a minute, just for one minute, forgetting about Dougie. Forgetting his feelings, forgetting his lust and desire. Knowing he'd met the woman he would marry. Wondering if he could desert his emotions for the bassist, and replace them with love for this woman. Being entranced by her, yet hypnotised by Dougie. Mixed up between the two, half of his heart battling with the other. Telling people he had found true love, but never knowing who he was talking about.

Hoping that being with someone else would make his feelings for the young man leave, go and fill up someone else's heart. They never did. Even on his wedding day, the day he committed himself to another person, Dougie was lingering in his mind, looking on with narrowed eyes and a resentful smirk. Even when he made love, Dougie was in his brain, throwing darts at his heart. Everywhere he did, Dougie was there, watching him. Just watching.

"You alright, Harry?" The brunet looked up, smiling as Izzy, his beloved wife, gazed at him with an expression of worry and concern. Harry grinned quickly, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, just thinking." Izzy leant down, giving him a kiss on the cheek, one full of love and adoration. Harry laughed, turning to look at the rainbow again.

He loved another woman, he decided. Yes, he was in love with another woman. It was her his heart belonged to, not Dougie. Nope, he didn't feel anything more than friendly emotions for Dougie, not desire, need or fondness.

Okay, so what if he did? He wasn't gay. He wasn't, he wasn't, he wasn't. So maybe he felt something for Dougie, something more than what a friend should feel. Why did it matter? It wasn't like anything would ever happen between them anyway.

But his eyes, his beautiful eyes. His lovely figure, his endearing, spontaneous personality. His inside strength, his will to be okay.

He didn't know. Maybe he liked Dougie more than he should, a lot more. But he was married to another woman. That was his position in the world. So yes, maybe he had a crush on Dougie.

It wasn't that he loved him, or anything like that.


End file.
